


The Closing of The Case

by redfiona



Category: Poirot (ITV Version)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfiona/pseuds/redfiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the truth behind the Crale case is revealed, Meredith Blake worries about the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Closing of The Case

**Author's Note:**

> Very much based on the ITV adaptation of the Five Little Pigs rather than the book, but I've added a few details from the book.

Poirot was expecting something to happen after the events at Alderbury. He hadn't expected it to be Meredith Blake who called upon him. The man, who would always intrinsically be the little piggy who stayed at home, looked thoroughly out of place in London, even within the confines of Poirot's apartment.

"Monsieur Blake, what a pleasure. Do sit down. What brings you to London?"

Blake said nothing until he was sure George had left the room and closed the door. There was something mouse-like and furtive in his behaviour. "I came to ask you a question, Monsieur Poirot."

"Of course. Ask it."

"I need to know that what you said at Alderbury was true. You said that it was unlikely that a case could be brought against Lady Dittisham. Is that true?"

Monsieur Meredith and his belle dames. Surely he could not still believe that Lady Dittisham, sad or pitiable as she may have been, required protection? "There is no evidence, not even that of circumstance. There is probability and psychology. To convince the police to prosecute a lady in her position takes more than this."

"That is a relief." There was a slight pause. "Do you believe that Miss Lemarchant will see it the same way?"

Poirot wasn't sure, but he was hopeful. The young should not spend too long in the past. "I think so. She only wished to prove her mother's innocence to her own satisfaction."

Meredith Blake relaxed a little. He didn't not make a move to leave however. "Lady Lytton-Gore said you were discreet."

"I am, monsieur." Poirot wasn't a doctor or a priest, but he believed in confidentiality, and if he gave someone his word, he held to it.

Blake changed the direction of his conversation completely with his next sentence. "It's nice what Angela is doing for Miss Williams."

"You have kept in touch?" Poirot had not. He had been occupied with another case and the safe removal of Mlle. Lemarchant to Canada, away from Lady Dittisham and temptation.

"Oh yes. I had intended to before, but you know how it is, and I thought it might be better for Angela if she wasn't reminded of what had happened."

"Of course."

"Angela saw, I think, that her old governess was living in what they called genteel poverty when I was young, and realised that she could do something about it. She has managed to create a position for Miss Williams, where Miss Williams collates the dig records. It's a sinecure, but enough work that the dear lady won't feel that it's charitable pity."

"That's very kind of Mlle. Warren." And it was, both the money and providing a position, because the Miss Williams of the world did not accept alms, because taking them would suggest they had not made the proper arrangements and that their affairs were not in order.

"It's something I believe in, you know, looking after one's family." That was why Blake had diverted the course of their conversation. As with a lot of wandering speakers, there was a thread of logic to their rambles. There was another period of silence. "I sometimes wonder if Philip and I would have been happier if Alderbury had not been next door." Meredith Blake's manner was halting, his speech full of stops and pauses. This was a man who had no one to speak to, a man estranged from his brother not due to a quarrel but due to a basic incompatibility of personality. His best friends were sixteen years dead and the circumstances of those deaths had taken his joy in his favourite hobby away from him. Poirot wanted to hear what this quiet man had to say.

"Neither of us recovered from our first loves. You never met Caroline, Monsieur Poirot," Caroline Crale, the unknowable centre of the Crale affair, no, Poirot had not had that privilege, "but if you had, you would understand." Poirot decided not to mention Blake's minor infatuation with the former Elsa Greer. But maybe that was the point, Blake had forgotten her, or at least had pretended to, but he would never do that to the memory of Caroline Crale. "Philip is not as hardy a soul as he thinks he is, and I worry that any court case may be unpleasant for him." Poirot could imagine exactly the parts of the trial that Meredith Blake didn't want his brother subjected to, and it also explained the surreptitiousness with which Blake sought Poirot's advice. Philip Blake might have pretended to be an easy-going soul but he had depths of feeling for Amyas Crale, something that Poirot had discovered easily enough and he was less adversarial that any number of barristers. It was impossible to predict what might happen to Philip Blake on the witness stand. Meredith Blake wished to prevent his brother from saying something that he would regret and might destroy him.

That was the moment that Poirot realised that everyone, including himself, had underestimated Meredith Blake. That everyone also included his own brother. It wasn't that Blake didn't have those combative attitudes that his brother used to such advantage on the stock market, it was that he had never needed to use the skills. No, Poirot realised, if the ages of the brothers Blake had been reversed then Philip Blake would have been the picture of the lord of the country manor, more in the hunting and fishing line than his brother, and more out-going in society, while Meredith Blake could also have been a banker, less aggressive than his brother, with smaller gains but fewer losses. Or maybe Blake would have been a doctor. Yes, Poirot could see that. It was possible that both Blakes would have been happier, not only without Alderbury, but in a different order of succession.

"I come for advice, Mr. Poirot. On what to do if the worst happens."

Poirot considered the lengths to which one might go for one's brother, and he could see Meredith Blake being a dragon where his brother was concerned. How far might he go to ensure Carla Lemarchant did not move the case further? It was better to remove temptation from him also.

"I think I understand, M. Blake. I feel I should set your mind further to rest. The police, and especially the courts, they like not the theories, the inferences, the subtle psychologies. It is too abstract for them. They like their witnesses and dregs of poisons. There are none of these in this case, beyond the ones that have already convicted Carla Crale. Even if Mlle. Lemarchant tries to get the case reopened," Poirot did not tell the man that if she thought of it, Lady Dittisham might also try to do that if just to alleviate the emptiness she felt, "no court in Britain would hear her."

"You are sure, Mr. Poirot?

"Oui. Bien sûr."

"Thank you, Mr. Poirot." Meredith picked up his walking stick, and moved to end the interview. "I trust you will understand my meaning when I say it has been a pleasure to meet you again, and yet I hope our paths will not cross again."

"Of course, M. Blake. I think you may be safe in that also, unless we happen to pass at Lady Lytton-Gore's house."

"Thank you again, Mr. Poirot." With that Meredith Blake left Poirot's consulting rooms and so ended Poirot's involvement with the tragic case of Caroline Crale.  



End file.
